“This is where I live right now,” he said, rather stupidly he thought, as they were standing at the front door.
“Right now, huh?”
That surprised him. She’d picked up on the one thing in the sentence that revealed something. He’d need to be careful around her.
He opened the door and stepped aside to let her enter first.
She frowned briefly, then walked past him, into the darkness.
He followed her, leaving the lights off on purpose. There were photos of Diana everywhere. He didn’t want to explain why he lived this way, not to this woman in her designer dress and expensive gold-and-platinum jewelry. In fact, he didn’t want to talk at all.
He went to the kitchen and grabbed some candles. There were dozens available, kept on hand for winter storms when the power went out. Wordlessly, he carried them into the bedroom and placed them wherever he could; then, one by one, he lit them. When he was finished, he turned around and there she was, standing at the end of the bed, holding her purse as if she thought he might steal it.
He released a pent-up breath. She was beautiful. Jet-black hair, pale skin, green eyes that slanted upward, lips that seemed reluctant to smile. What in the hell was she doing here with him? And what was he doing here with her? He hadn’t been with a woman since Diana.
She reached into her purse for something—
A condom. Oh, God.
—and then dropped her bag on the floor. As she walked toward him, hips swaying slightly, she unzipped her dress. It fell halfway down her arms, revealing a lacy black bra and creamy cleavage.
He meant to say, Go away, but instead he reached for her, pulled her against him. Her body molded to his and began slowly, slowly to move.
When he found the strength to pull back, he was trembling.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He didn’t think, didn’t speak, just swept her into his arms and carried her toward the bed.
They fell onto the rumpled bedding together, she beneath him. His body lay possessively on top of hers, and it felt good. Her hips came up to meet him.
Groaning, he bent down to kiss her. The soft, pliant feel of her mouth jolted him back in time.
Diana.
“What did you say?”
He drew back, looked down at her.
Meghann.
This time, when he kissed her, he kept his eyes open. She kissed him with a ferocity that left him breathless.
She shoved her hands underneath his T-shirt. Her fingertips grazed his nipples. “Take off your pants.” Her voice was coarse. “I want to touch you.”
They broke apart. He slid off the bed and undressed, his fingers too shaky to unbutton his jeans on the first try.
Naked, they fell together on the bed again. He rubbed his erection against her, kissing her open mouth, her chin, her closed eyes. She wrapped her leg over his and pressed in close. He felt her moisture against his thigh.
Then she reached down and touched him, wrapped her fingers tightly around him. Up and down. Up and down. He felt the condom slide into place in one practiced move.
He groaned as he thrust into her grasp one sweet, aching time, then pulled away before it was too late. He slid down her body, kissing her chin, her throat, her breasts. He tasted one nipple, drew it into his mouth, and sucked its sweetness. His hands pushed her legs apart as he moved downward, kissing her navel, her pubic hair.
She tried to push him away.
He held her in place, lowered his kisses until he was inside her. Moaning, she clutched his head and spread her legs wider apart. His tongue explored her, tasted her, glided up and down and in and out.
“Oh. My. God.” She said it brokenly. “Now.”
He pulled her toward him in one swift motion and entered her.
She clung to him, arched up to meet him. She matched him thrust for thrust.
Joe’s climax was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.
“Whew,” she said, pushing the damp hair away from her face. “That was definitely an E-ticket ride.”
He leaned back against the wobbly headboard. His whole body felt weak, trembling.
She looked up at him, smiling broadly, still breathing hard. “What’s your name?”
“Joe.”
“Well, Joe. That was great.”
After a long minute, he dared to slide his arm around her, draw her closer. Holding her, he closed his eyes.
For the first time in years, he went to sleep with a woman in his arms.
When he woke up, he was alone again.
SIXTEEN
“WHEW!” CLAIRE FLOPPED BACK ONTO THE PILLOWS. “I CAN’T remember the last time I got lucky in the morning.” She pushed the hair out of her eyes and smiled at Bobby. “You must really love me if you’ll kiss me before I brush my teeth.”
He rolled onto his side. His handsome face was crisscrossed with tiny pink sleep lines. “You still wonder, don’t you?”
“No,” she said too quickly.
He touched her cheek in a caress so soft it made her sigh. “I love you, Claire Cavenaugh. I’d like to kick the ass of the man who made you so afraid to believe me.”
She knew her smile was more than a little sad. There was nothing she could do about it. “It’s not just men.”
“But I can’t beat up your mother or your sister.”
She laughed at that. “Just prove Meg wrong. Nothing will make her crazier.”
“She’s trying, you know.”